


A Means of Catharsis

by mouseratstan



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: BrattySub!Leslie, Choking, Dom!Ben, F/M, Fluff, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Smut, Spanking, just pure smut, roleplaying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-02
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:22:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24505354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mouseratstan/pseuds/mouseratstan
Summary: Ben and Leslie are trying to think up roleplay scenarios to spice up their sex life when suddenly Ben remembers something Andy Dwyer told him years ago.
Relationships: Leslie Knope/Ben Wyatt
Comments: 9
Kudos: 67





	A Means of Catharsis

**Author's Note:**

> I was asked to provide Dom Ben, and he has been delivered. As Dom as I think baby Ben Wyatt can get, at least.

“Hold on, so we would be playing… as ourselves? Then how is that roleplay?”

“Yes, as ourselves, but not our  _ current  _ selves. Does that make sense?”

Ben stares at Leslie as if confused, or even a little reluctant. They're stretched out over their bed, clad only in t-shirts and underwear, while Leslie smiles broadly at him.

“I guess I'm just confused on how that would be fun for us, babe. I mean, that wasn't exactly a great period of our lives,” Ben reasons, and Leslie pouts.

“That's part of the fun! It's not real. And you're the one that brought it up in the first place.”

It's true, Ben can't deny that. Leslie had sat in bed and pulled out a list, titled  _ Possible Sexy Roleplay Scenarios _ , when Ben had laughed to himself, remembering something Andy Dwyer had said to him years ago.

_ You gotta dream up some weird scenario, like you're her boss and sex is forbidden because she works for you… and she's addicted to spanking. _

And maybe Ben was a little bit interested in that last part, because when they've tried it in the past, it's always been hot… So he brought up the memory. Ben never could've anticipated Leslie wanting to turn it into an actual roleplay scenario of their past selves.

Ben bites his lip. “What if it's not…  _ hot,  _ though? What if it just kind of bums us out, pretending to be back at that point again?”

“Then we’ll stop, babe, I promise. We can come up with a safe word.” And then Leslie is crawling up into his lap to straddle it, and Ben feels his self control slipping. “Honestly, I think it'll be kind of… cathartic, don't you? Besides…” she leans close to his ear, her lips hot on his skin, “ _ you’ll be the boss.  _ Don't you wanna tell me what to do?”

“Fuck,” Ben hisses, grabbing her hips, because he kind of really, really does want to do that. “Okay, okay, you're right. But… if we’re gonna do this, we should probably do it right, don't you think?”

…

Ben’s definition of  _ doing it right  _ is driving to Pawnee City Hall well past dark and taking a trip to the City Manager’s office.

And Leslie’s never been more grateful that her husband  _ is  _ City Manager now, because it means their presence here isn't one of note. If anyone were to look in, it would not be strange to find Ben Wyatt and Leslie Knope working late into the night.

And even though Ben was reluctant at first, now he's locking doors and he's in character before he even turns around.

“Leslie,” he says, quirking a brow at her as if he's confused. “What are you doing in my office so late?”

_ Damn, he's good.  _ He’s making that exact same face he used to make at her, like he's trying very hard not to be in love with her, like he’s holding a piece of himself back. And it's so oddly realistic that Leslie has no trouble getting into character herself.

“Oh!” she exclaims, and she leans against his office door as he stands behind his desk. “Oh, I… I wanted to talk to you about the Parks and Rec budget.”

He stares at her. “At 10pm?”

Her heart skips a beat, trying to remember what the old Leslie would do. Because the  _ current  _ Leslie really just wants to jump her husband’s bones. “It's really important,” she tells him. “It couldn't wait.” So she strides forward and takes a seat in front of his desk, when she realizes she has no folders or binders to use as props.  _ Crap on a cracker.  _

But it doesn't end up mattering, because now Ben’s is leaning over his desk, and his voice is low, and  _ God,  _ does he look sexy. “I know what you're doing, Leslie.”

She swallows hard. “I'm… talking about the budget?”

He shakes his head, and then he’s walking away from his desk to stand in front of her, his hands on the armrests of her chair, and for a moment, she actually feels like she's in trouble. 

“No, you're not,” he tells her. “And you can't do this. I'm your boss.”

Oh, damn  _ right  _ he’s her boss.

“I'm not sure what you're talking about,” Leslie whispers, but she's painfully aware of how close he is to her, how he's leaning over her, essentially trapping her into this chair. “I haven't done anything wrong.”

His hands tighten around the arms of her chair, and he lowers his head so that they're face to face, his eyes looking into hers. He's only an inch away, she can feel his breath on her skin. “You've been driving me crazy,” he tells her. “And I think you know that.”

Her hand sneaks up to grab his tie that he put on just for this occasion, tugging lightly. “Maybe,” she shrugs. “But what are you going to do about it, Mr. Assistant City Manager?”

And Ben almost breaks, because he loves when she pulls him in by his tie, but he stays strong, save a low groan in the back of his throat. “As your boss, I do have the power to punish you, you know.”

Okay, wow, that was hot. Her husband is very hot and she's already holding her breath, rubbing her thighs together. “You're going to suspend me for driving you crazy? Seems a little unfair.”

So, maybe she's being a bit of a brat. She knows exactly what Ben means, she just wants him to say it.

“I have better ideas,” he says, and one of his hands lifts from the arm rest to curl into her hair, grabbing a fistful. “And honestly? I think I'm tired of being careful. All these rules—”

“Screw the rules,” she gasps, and that's all the permission Ben needs. 

He pulls her into him by her hair, and then he's kissing her, and she swears it's like kissing Ben Wyatt for the first time again. There's that feeling, in the back of her mind, that this is  _ forbidden,  _ that this shouldn't be happening, that this is a secret, and it kind of makes it sexy in a whole new way.

Leslie is pulling at his tie and Ben is pulling at her hair, and he's not holding back. Because on the car ride over here she made sure to tell him  _ exactly  _ what she wants from him this time around, and though he looked nervous… she's confident he can deliver.

So when he tugs her away from his lips so he can latch onto her neck with bruising force, she knows  _ exactly  _ what she's getting into.

His teeth scrape along her throat, along the sides and under her chin, and she gasps at the feel of his canines, sharp against her skin. She's already moaning as he bites her, his fingers fumbling along her blouse to tear the buttons away.

“We shouldn't be doing this,” she gasps, staying in character, just as he tears her shirt away and runs his fingers along her bare midriff. “We could…  _ fuck—  _ we could get in trouble.”

His palms are squeezing her breast, and she swears it's impossible to get a sentence out when he does this to her.

“I don't care,” he hisses, just as he rips her bra from her body, tossing it aside. And maybe it's just the thrill of this roleplay scenario, but Leslie feels exposed, almost as if it really is her first time being topless in front of him, as if he hasn't already memorized every inch of her skin. “Stand up.”

She listens to him, god, she definitely listens to him when he uses that tone with her. Her legs are shaky as she stands, and Ben watches her, takes a moment to smile at her. His finger touches her chin to lift it, pressing the lightest kiss to her lips.

“You're beautiful, you know,” he says to her, and then he's bending her over his office desk.

It's cleared for exactly this moment, and she gasps as her body hits the wood, Ben holding her down with his hand on her back. Ben had asked her specifically to wear a skirt for tonight— and now Leslie knows exactly why.

“But I did promise you I would punish you,” Ben says, using his  _ boss  _ voice that used to irritate her so badly when they first met. “And if I let you go free without a punishment, I would look like a pushover to everyone else.”

“That's a pretty good excuse to act on your feelings,” she says, as his fingers ghost up her thighs, feeling as they slip her skirt all the way up to her waist. “Tell me, Ben, how long have you wanted to do this?”

In one movement, her underwear is pulled to the floor, and Leslie shivers. 

“Too long.” His hands cup her ass, and she braces herself. “I think I've wanted this ever since you called me a jerk in the conference room on my first day here.”

“I would do it again.”

“Would you? Even if I do this?”

There's a  _ smack _ , and Leslie gasps, Ben’s hand coming down hard to strike her ass. He rubs the spot right afterwards, and she takes in a shaky breath.

“I would,” she insists, holding her ground. “You're a jerk, Ben Wyatt.”

She says it because she knows it’ll spur him on, and the next time he spanks her, she actually moans, resting her forehead on his desk. “You're doing this on purpose,” he says, and he spanks her again. And again.  _ And again. _

And Leslie is squirming and gasping and one of his hands is still holding her down at the small of her back. And she can't see him, but she knows he’s smirking, that self-satisfied little smirk he does when he  _ knows  _ he's turning her on, which always turns her on even more.

She knows her ass is turning red as he strikes her again, and now she's biting her lip to control the moaning. “You might wanna keep quiet,” Ben reminds her, and while it's all part of the scenario, there's also some truth to that. “You know what would happen if we got caught.”

Right. Firing. Ethics hearing.  _ Forbidden.  _ And while a relationship is one thing, it's safe to say having kinky sex on the City Manager’s desk is way beyond just  _ forbidden.  _

(But wait, if they're roleplaying their past selves, does this mean technically they're roleplaying having sex on Chris Traeger’s desk? Okay,  _ ew, don't think about that, Leslie, stop that. _ )

And Ben tells her to keep quiet but he strikes her again, harder than before, and the moan is obvious even with her hand over her mouth. And the more he does it, the more she finds herself unconsciously spreading her legs further, as if trying to find her footing, as if her body is begging for Ben to touch her.

So when Ben spanks her one more time, just for one of his fingers to immediately slide inside her, she can't help the gasp that escapes her lips, can't help the way her back arches against his hold.

_ “Fuck,  _ Leslie,” he whispers, cupping his hand between her legs to spread them further. “You're so wet.”

She's practically trembling now, her body aching for him, and she pushes to grind against his hand, for more friction— just for him to remove his hand entirely.

_ “Ben,”  _ she whines, trying to twist her head around to see him again. But there's no use, because his hand is in her hair again, pulling on it so she's looking up into his eyes, where he's now in front of her. 

“Ask nicely,” he tells her, and she huffs at him.

“Ben—”

“Beg for it.” She feels his nails along her scalp and he leans in to kiss her, so sweet that it's a very new kind of torture. “Beg.”

And goddammit, Leslie loves to play the brat, but Ben has always been too good at making her melt. He knows just how to touch her, exactly what to say to her, and she caves, the words soft and rushed.  _ “Please.  _ Please, Ben.”

“Please, what?”

God, she's made him cocky. “Please touch me.”

Ben smirks, and lets go of her hair, positioning himself behind her again. “I'll do you one better.”

He spreads her legs as far as they’ll go, and when he touches her and she feels his  _ tongue  _ instead of his fingers, she knows he's on his knees now, his fingers pressed into her hips, pulling her down onto his face. And that mental image is really, really doing it for her.

He shoves his tongue inside her, and he doesn't even bother to start slow, reveling in the way he's making her legs shake around him. His hands join in no time, one wrapping around her hips to keep her firmly bent over his desk, while the other sets to work on her clit, rubbing furiously until all she can do is moan his name.

Ben alternates, because just as he moves his face away and she's starting to miss it, his tongue is swirling her clit while two fingers push inside her, pounding in and out as if his greatest goal in life is to make her scream.

And Leslie loves Ben, so much, but he's also kind of the world's biggest asshole.

Because just as she  _ knows  _ she's about to orgasm, when she's barely gasping to him that she's going to cum,  _ he stops.  _ He actually, legitimately stops, pulling away from her and taking an entire step back. And it's enough to make her scream in frustration, like actual pain in her stomach, and goddammit, she actually married the biggest tease in the whole entire planet.

_ “BEN!”  _ she shouts, as if unable to help herself, and she rubs her thighs together as if to find some friction, just for Ben to stop her again.

“Had to be done,” he tells her, with a hint of amusement in his tone, clearly  _ not even feeling bad. _

“You jerk,” she mumbles, before she realizes what she's said. She knows Ben freezes.

“What was that?” he questions, even though he absolutely heard her the first time. “You were mumbling.”

She grits her teeth, squeezes her eyes shut. “You're a jerk.”

Ben grips her hips and pulls her off his desk, only so he can flip her around and lay her on top of it instead. And while being bent over his desk is certainly vulnerable,  _ laying  _ on it… so she's looking at him, and her feet can't even touch the ground? Yeah, she's into this position.

It's made even better, too, when Ben takes her wrists and presses them into the wood, very effectively pinning her. “I want you to look me in the eye and say that again,” he says. Has she ever told Ben just how sexy he is when he's being demanding? “I dare you.”

Well, if he's going to  _ dare  _ her, she can't turn that down… She looks directly into his eyes, so full of love, even now, and she bites down on her bottom lip, just to tease  _ him.  _

_ “You're a jerk.” _

And god, she's glad she did it, because she loves any opportunity to see Ben slip into his most dominant side.

In a flash, he's digging his fingers into the band of her skirt to fully pull it from her body, leaving her completely naked, which is definitely unfair while Ben’s fully clothed. Not that it lasts long, because he only moves his hands from her to rip his belt off and kick his pants and his boxers off. She wants to complain that he's leaving his shirt on, but that also means he's leaving his  _ tie  _ on, and that's something she can get behind.

But then he's tugging her hips to the edge of his desk and leaning over her, and she knows all of her bratty play is lost in the wind as soon as his fingers gently slide around her throat.

He doesn't squeeze yet, not really, but he doesn't have to. His hands are large and his fingers are long and she feels the pressure just with that, her chin tilting upwards, her breath catching.

“Say my name.”

Leslie shudders underneath him, and for a moment, she forgets how to speak.

Ben’s fingers gently squeeze the sides of her throat, with just enough pressure that Leslie starts to whimper. “Say my name,” he demands again.

_ “Ben,”  _ she breathes, and the combination of his hands on her throat and his eyes locked on hers makes her more eager than ever to have him inside her.

“What do you want me to do to you?” he asks her, and he keeps that light pressure going, enough to make her tremble.

“Fuck me,” she tells him, because she's far beyond the point of playing coy and dodging him. “Please, Ben.”

She moans as he slowly pushes into her, so damn slowly, and his free hand reaches up to clasp over her mouth. “Remember what I said about being quiet, babe.  _ The rules.” _

She's practically forgotten about their roleplay by this point, simply reveling in Ben playing the boss with his hands on her neck, but she nods, trying her best to keep the noises at bay.

He rocks his body against hers, and when he pushes in again, it's faster, harder, and it's totally rude of him to tell her to be quiet when he's already started moaning too.

Ben’s hand slips from her mouth in favor of going back to her hair, grabbing a fistful and pinning it to the desk. He uses this as his grounding point, like a place to hold on as he pounds more quickly into her, and she swears their breathing is jagged in record time. But with this kind of build up, who could blame them?

_ “Fuck,”  _ Ben hisses, and Leslie recognizes that as Ben’s cue that he's about to finish. And he's damn lucky that she's so sensitive right now after he  _ rudely  _ stopped eating her out right before her own orgasm, because it means she's building just as quickly as he is,  _ if not quicker. _

The hand that isn't currently wrapped tightly into Leslie's hair darts between their bodies, his fingers rubbing her clit, and she knows it's so she finishes before him. She knows his goal is that she cums before him, and damn him for that, for being so good at working her body that he can accomplish that.

“Cum for me,” he whispers, and she's completely and totally done for.

The moan that pushes from her lips is practically a scream, a jumbled mess of curse words and Ben’s name, over and over again, her body arching upwards against his. Her hands, suddenly remembering she can use them, fly upwards to grip Ben's shirt and his tie, pulling furiously, and she's barely coming down from it by the time Ben is gasping too, finishing inside her and collapsing on top of her.

The hand that was pulling Leslie’s hair very slowly transitions into stroking her hair, pushing it off her sweaty forehead. Her eyelids flutter shut as they shift into a more comfortable position, as if forgetting that they're lying on top of a desk, because they just really need to cuddle each other now. Leslie starts to giggle breathlessly as Ben presses light kisses all over her face and her neck, finally stopping at her lips, lingering there for a moment.

“You make a sexy boss, Mr. City Manager,” she whispers, liking the sound of that much more than  _ Assistant  _ City Manager.

Ben smiles at her, big and goofy and eager for validation. “So I did alright? That was good?”

She laughs and cards her fingers through his hair. “Better than good, babe.” It takes them a while, already feeling sore, but Ben helps Leslie up off the desk so she can stand, pulling her clothes off the floor. “Man, if only we had done  _ that  _ a couple years ago, huh?”

Ben laughs, pulling his boxers on, and leans over to press another kiss to her lips. “Things would've been a lot less angsty, that's for sure.”


End file.
